Friday, March 27, 2009

Its sad but true

She forgot be light-skin folks, check for you when they don't know your race.
Fucking for tracks, its much easier than writing your own tracks.
Jack your swagger from gay men and euro pop artists. Fat straights won't notice.
Autotune is a must!

Boyfriend Of Youth

I find myself looking at men in a different light. I study them now. I look for the characteristics that would have enthralled me in my youth. The things that attracted me back then, doesn't do it for me now but, I am still intrigued by them. I was very stuck on looks but I like to pretend I never was. As I have gotten older, how I am treated is way more important to me than how a man looks. I ran into a guy I considered my first adult relationship. He looks the same so much so, that I see now the traits in him that now I would think of as corny, yet I am curious about him.What was it about him that had me so open? I still can't put my finger on it yet I still recognize that I indeed did feel that way about him. My heart was completely open back then, nothing to darken it. It was one of those relationships that to me is special because, we never had sex yet what happened in that relationship changed me profoundly. My rose colored glasses were smashed. I changed. My ego was checked. Before him I never really cared about other guys in the same way I did about him, and before that I had never been rejected. His rejection hurt and mattered. I had that "what is wrong with me" moment. I think every woman has this at some point; the why can't I keep a man bag. Its when you think you are the perfect girlfriend and then someone lets you know umm no ma'am you not. I was delivered from my girlish ideals to womanhood. I wanted to know why. He had no answers. Now I realize, why really isn't that important. An affair of youth. So to run into him again has me curious not in a I am interested in him way but in an observant way. We were so young back then. I wonder...

Thursday, March 26, 2009

My ghetto quilty pleasure

And the hot remix

I actually put this on my ipod

Friday, March 20, 2009

Geez Louise

I am glad I didn't get ghetto and blow up the spot. Age teaches you to slow your roll. Things may not be be as they seem. We love each other.

Thursday, March 19, 2009


I am aggravated at my husband. We are in a weird place in our relationship. There is this weird undercurrent of hostility. You know when you are fighting but there really isn't an argument. It makes me want to be aggressive and bring forth to the surface what is simmering there.

Its no longer a fairytale. Its the real right now. I am hurt. I don't want us to drift apart. He looks to me for guidance and I don't have the words to guide him.

I don't know what to do. I am angry now and I must be careful

Monday, March 16, 2009

Old Time Sake

From reading my journal from middle school, I find I was bitchy, self-involved, funny, way to obsessed with Prince and incoherent. My handwriting was so hard to read all tight and loopy. This thing needs to burn. Good lord. Reading some of the entries make me want to vomit. LOL The infantile me is loud and clear. I roll my eyes at this little girl yet I am still interested in what she has to say. I am her and she is me. Maybe this is why when I start to have kids the thought of having a girl scares me.

Here are some of the entries that made me laugh:

"Today in computer this boy who I think is cute named ***** talked to me, which I thought was nice. He asked me could he sit in my seat. I said NO and he keep trying to put a sweet face on me."


"I wish I had a boyfriend. A CUTE ONE!!!! PS I saw a fight"

" But YOU SHOULD have seen ***** if you did your eyes would have fell out he had on a black turtle neck with some Guess on. He looked good Oh I wish I could go with him."

" I can't stand ****** she keep talking shit she is going to make me go off on her ass"

"Prince is so fine I would love to marry him and do almost everything to please him" (I think I threw up in my mouth as I typed that)

" I got my letter back from Prince that I sent it said return to sender."

"***** told me that J.D said I started my period in C.C.D. I wasn't mad but if one more person ask me that I'm gonna go off on J.D cause he don't know what the fuck he is talking about."

" I made my confirmation it was O.K. The Bishop said my saint name was his mama's name"

" I could have kissed ******"

"My mama is getting on my fucking nerves shit. She is busting in here when I am changing without knocking and I told her she need to knock. Then she go say well change in the bath. I said it's my room I should be able to change if I want in my own room. She just gets on my nerves."

"Mama could have went out but as usual she fucked up my night."

"I got to watch 9 1/2 weeks ohh that movie is good."

Oh dear that is about all I can stomach of myself. I was a straight up fast, think she smart bitch. LOL

A Journal Entry From My Youth

Today I was looking through my diary from middle school and some of the passages I read made me want to gag. LOL. I may post some of them later, but this particular passage made tears well up in my eyes because I remember that day. The shaky handwriting that I used expressed a sad day that at the time I didn’t have the words to express what I was feeling, the ink was a cheerful teal blue.


“I hate that damn Edward. Could take a gun and shoot him. No one is the world can have so much hate inside for someone. I mean I hate staying here. He’s out there cutting down a tree that I really like. I hate him. I hate him I wish a tree limb would”

That was all that I wrote but I remember that day. It was the first and last day a man ever laid his hands on me. I remember talking to my grandmother about how he was cutting the limbs off of a tree in our front yard. I was angry about it. I felt it was not his house to make such a decision. My mom was at work and Edward was her boyfriend who lived with us. He decided to cut off the limbs on a perfectly good tree at a house we were renting. It looked horrible. I remember thinking he was such a sorry ass man and how could my mother waste her time on him. Anyway he heard me talking shit about him cutting down the tree with my grandmother on the phone and we got in an argument. And it ended with him grabbing me by my neck and throwing me in my room. I remember thinking at the time that it must have looked like that scene in Purple Rain when his daddy slapped him into the next room. Remember that. It was comical yet disturbing at the same time.

Anyway, I remembered the fear I felt. I knew I couldn’t win. Even if my anger towards him was equal towards him as his was towards me. I would lose. I know we were yelling at each other what I said I don’t remember. I remember later looking in the mirror and the cross necklace I had around my neck had left scratches on my neck from the tussle. I could have had his ass. I had power, I knew what I could do if I just opened my mouth. I knew if I told my mom what he did she would leave him but I never told her what happened. Even to this day she doesn’t know for sure what happened that day. I didn’t want to worry her. I loved my mother I hated to see her hurt or break her heart. This I felt would break her heart. My mother was stressed our household was full of fighting and unhappiness. Our life was not good with Edward. But perhaps I didn’t tell her for fear she wouldn’t leave him and then I would have to hate her and resent her more than I already did for staying with this man. When she came home she knew something had happened and she asked me how I got the scratches on my neck. I said nothing.

My mother’s relationship with this man finally did end of course it took longer than I would have liked. I never understood and still don’t understand the hold he had on my mother. My mother was and still is a beautiful, intelligent and strong woman. I adore her. I recognize the sacrifices she made. Its not easy raising a child alone. I recognize now the complexities of relationships. I harbor no ill will. Outside people may have their opinions about the choices she made or my choice to not speak, but that really doesn’t matter. I am more than just this occurrence. She is more than that particular relationship she was in. And I am OK. My mother is OK. My mother raised me to be a thoughtful, independent and self-reliant woman. I learned how I wanted to be loved, what I expected from a man. I learned to never be weak. I grew from this incident. And sadly in life you sometimes have to learn the hard way, life isn't fair. It would be great if we were all infallible right? When I come back I will do the best of the "ohh the boy I like felt on my booty entries." lol

Sunday, March 15, 2009

A new place to lay my head

I decided that needed a new place to lay my head. Perhaps moving my blog from myspace to here will provide new inspiration for me. I have been journaling since middle school and in recent years I have taken some personal thoughts and made them public. To be honest I rarely get much feedback from the random thoughts I do happen to publish and yet I still feel the need to continue to do so publicly.Am a ho with goods no one wants to buy? lol As I read this it sounds as if I am a very serious person and I am not. I wish I was. Maybe I just have all this pressure to start this shit out hot and I got nothing. Perhaps this is the perfect example of when you have nothing to say you should just shut your mouth. Maybe someone will irritate me before the day is over and give me some inspiration. I remember one guy I use to work with said, "You get pissed off when the wind blows." He may have been on to something.